


black orchid

by jeannedarc



Category: SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Frottage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Sneaking Around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 23:14:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21187580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeannedarc/pseuds/jeannedarc
Summary: jongin just wants to sleep. a shame he can't do it when taemin's not in the same room.





	black orchid

**Author's Note:**

> a lil warmup. we goin beta-less. love u kayla.

It starts, as all things do, with Taemin trying to pick an argument. Jongin, jetlagged and sort of exhausted, isn’t in the mood to argue, still rubbing the idea of sleep from his eyes even as he drags his suitcase along the hardwood floor. Its wheels click strangely. Everything feels like an out of body experience. He cannot forget the idea of being ignored, and though it stings a little, he knows what the outcome will be in the end of everything.

Though Jongin wants nothing more than a nap, he ends up socialising, the cameras there watching their every move and giving them no semblance of privacy. Damn Taemin, he thinks as he lifts his best friend’s t-shirt collection from his suitcase, helping him unpack whatever they’ll need for the next week or so. He hasn’t bothered unearthing his own things, figuring they’ll come out when they need to, and that someone will end up going through whatever he’s brought with him regardless.

Taemin keeps giving him The Look, sly and practised over a cheshire grin, knowing that Jongin is full of questions he can’t ask because the sound equipment is _so_ sensitive.

Jongin, for what it’s worth, hates that a little bit. But he loves Taemin, so it’s alright.

Only when night falls, and everyone’s said their goodnights, and Jongin is so tired he can barely keep his eyes open, does he creep out of his shared bedroom. Baekhyun sleeps like the dead. Jongin’s never been more grateful to have him as a roommate than he is now.

He pads down the hallway, passing the artwork, listening carefully for the snores of the other members. At least he’s got fewer bodies to listen for than he might normally. He counts his lucky stars.

The only source of light is that blasted candle. It smells of leather and spice and vanilla, and reminds Jongin of previous times they’d spent overseas, locked into one another. Jongin’s a little hard just at the memory. He can’t see very well, treads softly and slowly, squinting into the darkness.

“Hi, baby,” murmurs Taemin’s voice across an ocean of almost-black. Jongin perks up, follows that thin trail of words so he might climb into bed with his boyfriend, his best friend, his everything.

Immediately he is met with velvet skin, and feels a bit silly for showing up dressed. Worried about getting caught, he assumes of the self who’d gotten into pyjamas knowing what it was he was coming to. Taemin’s arms snake around his waist nonetheless, and he buries his face in Jongin’s neck, breathing him in, dotting little kisses here and there. “I thought for a minute you wouldn’t come.”

Jongin can only laugh, weakly at that, nosing carefully into Taemin’s hair and pressing kisses to his crown. The giggles die in his throat when Taemin presses to him, their hips interlocking, and he can feel Taemin already half-hard and completely naked between them.

He dips, and kisses Taemin’s mouth, tastes the sweetness of his lips, the one thing he’s been craving more than sleep. They stay wound around one another like this a long while, lazy, languid, Jongin so sure he’ll fall asleep before either of them get to come.

“You didn’t want to share a room with me,” he murmurs, shivering softly when Taemin’s tongue traces the swell of his bottom lip.

“You didn’t want me to want to share a room with you,” points out Taemin. He shifts, their cocks meeting in the middle, the only thing keeping them from brushing together and drawing one of those piteous moans Taemin loves so much from the center of Jongin’s throat a thin layer of cotton. “You like sneaking around, don’t you?”

“Not as much as you,” Jongin whines, rutting shamelessly against his boyfriend, reveling in the spark he feels roll up Taemin’s spine. He hikes up a leg, wraps it around the back of Taemin’s knee, draws the pair of them closer together. He can feel how much Taemin likes the accusation, the twitch of his cock against Jongin’s, strong enough that it pulses even through the pathetic excuse for sleep pants he shamefully wore to this engagement. “You wanted me to wait until everyone was asleep so you could try and keep me quiet.”

Taemin doesn’t have an answer to this, instead presses sharp fingertips into the column of Jongin’s spine and rubs them together another time. His hands skate downward, hooking into the waistband of Jongin’s sleep pants, just enough that they can relish in the touch of skin on skin. Making up for lost time, some distant part of Jongin supposes. 

They grind against each other, and it’s one of the most excruciating processes he’s been through. Jongin’s always know Taemin to be a tease, but that doesn’t really matter when he’s caught between the living and the dead, sleep calling to him. 

“Do you-- ah, do you want to fuck?” Taemin asks him, and Jongin shakes his head no, whines dissent against Taemin’s skin. “Do you want to get off like this?” Jongin nods, and shifts, and presses his mouth to that heart-shaped mole round Taemin’s collarbone. It’s here he muffles the moans as Taemin, somehow full of energy in the dead of night, uses those sinful hips of his to roll against Jongin. Every touch is a shockwave, electric and zipping almost violently through every bone and muscle and nerve, leaving Jongin slack-jawed and mouthing hotly against the divot in Taemin’s collar. 

The kisses, however unintentional, to that mark on Taemin’s chest unbuttons him, same way as Jongin comes apart at hands stroking along the curve of his spine, his ass and the small of his back and the soft space between his shoulderblades -- light touches here and there that don’t mean the end so much as a promise of something better, when they’ve rested, when they’ve got more time, more privacy. Jongin leaves kisses here against this heart over Taemin's heart, and feels him twitch helpless beneath every single one.

“Don’t tease me,” Jongin asks in a high, pleading voice, “not tonight.” And Taemin might love starting arguments that can’t be resolved until later, but he loves obliging Jongin more than anything in the entire world.

He kisses Jongin, all tongue, purposefully sloppy, and that’s a bigger promise than anything they’ve made here tonight.

Their hands are wandering, now, Taemin grabbing at the meat of Jongin’s ass, fingertips raking down the backs of his thighs, trying to bring him in further, as if they could be any closer than they already are. Jongin’s lost sense of where he begins, where his pleasure ends, where Taemin is other than some part of himself, wrenched beneath his ribcage to replace his heart. They move with a synchronicity that can only be explained by the pair of them being fated to belong to one another. Each moan, each tiny whimper that ekes from Jongin’s throat is chased with a kiss, with a praise. “You’re so pretty, Jonginnie,” Taemin tells him, in that ragged voice that lets Jongin know he’s close. “So good for me, waiting all day, sneaking out for me…” 

He comes unexpectedly, with a stutter of his sawing hips, teeth digging into Taemin’s pale flesh, hard enough he knows there’s going to be a mark there for later, a souvenir on their trip to the States. It’s fortunate, he thinks, that Taemin’s not far behind.

When they catch their breath, stomachs splattered with one another’s cum and their foreheads damp with sweat, Jongin watches the way Taemin’s eyes catch in the flickering light of the candle. “Can I sleep here?” he asks lazily, though he already knows the answer.

“The cameras are going to notice you not being in your room,” Taemin points out. “Do you want me to set an alarm?”

“Yeah,” mumbles Jongin. He barely notices the dip of the bed, the changing of their positions, Taemin coming back to him as something otherworldly and spectral as sleep drags him down. The last thing he feels before falling unconscious is the cold touch of a damp cloth to his skin, mopping up the traces of their sex.

All too soon, before the sun has even crested the horizon to greet them for the day, Taemin wakes Jongin with a kiss, tells him he’s got to get back to his own room. Content in Taemin’s arms, Jongin makes a couple sounds of deeply disappointed protest, but eventually drags himself to his feet, shuffles back to his own room.

His heart sticks in his throat when he sees another head poking out from beneath the covers of his bed. But Baekhyun sleeps like the dead, right?

Jongin slips beneath the drawn-back comforter. He’s about to go back to sleep, catch a little bit more rest before someone decides that being up early is acceptable, when that knowing voice drifts into his ears.

“You two have _got_ to get better at sneaking around,” says Baekhyun drowsily.

Jongin rolls his eyes, and forces himself to sleep, sure he’ll endure some mockery once the day is high, but too tired to deal with it now.

**Author's Note:**

> come annoy me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/appiarian) if you feel like it and [cc](http://curiouscat.me/chahakyeon) if you have any questions or requests ♥


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